


sick of meaning

by jetpacks



Category: Scott Pilgrim (Comics), Scott Pilgrim - All Media Types, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash February, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, I DIDNT. get around to finishing this one. mental health stuff happened but, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prom, Prom Queen, Secret Admirer, Sharing a Bed, i got close so whatever!!!!!, there will be various different things in here so i'll update the tags as i go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 15,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22517695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetpacks/pseuds/jetpacks
Summary: A collection of Kim/Ramona ficlets for Femslash February 2020.
Relationships: Ramona Flowers/Kim Pine
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. meet cute

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So first of all, I'm using a mix of prompt lists this year for... reasons that nobody cares about; the first nine days are prompts from Tumblr user fauxghcst's list, and the rest are from the official Femslash February prompt list. Also, thank you again to everyone who's looked over it/helped me with ideas while I was posting in everyone's DMs; I'm a slut for attention lolllll love you guys dearly.  
> ...I guess that's it? Enjoy the WLW.

Ramona is almost asleep, tucked under three blankets with her arm beneath her pillow, when her phone buzzes, stirring her from the reverie of her exhaustion. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, frustrated in no little amount, but opens them when the phone buzzes again. Lit only by the light of the moon through the window, her phone lies on her nightstand, and she reaches out a hand to grab it. With her face still half-obscured by the pillow, she flips it open and opens the message.

_ > Hi, it's Kim- you know, from the bar. I had a great time tonight. _

Ramona narrows her eyes at the bright screen as she ponders the text. She doesn't know any Kims, and she stayed in tonight, which means…

> _ So sorry, but I think someone gave you the wrong number :( _

There's silence for a few minutes, which Ramona uses to curl back up under the covers and try to fall asleep. However, just as she's about to drift off, the phone bursts to life again; she groans, but she hates to leave this Kim chick alone when she's probably just been rejected in a really shitty way. (She ignores the fact that she herself has done it plenty of times.)

_ > Oh. That's… too bad. _

_ Well, maybe you're cooler than he was. _

_ > That's actually entirely possible. _

What's she doing? She needs to get up early tomorrow for work; why's she texting some rando? But the allure of some mystery woman is… well, alluring, and she had a boring day.  _ This  _ is exciting. That's the excuse she gives herself as her face lights up when her phone does, anyway.

> _ Yeah, I'm just gonna convince myself of that and then cry myself to sleep. _

_...That was sarcasm. _

_ > Oh, no, I know. _

_ I'm Ramona. _

_ > Cool. I'm Kim. _

_ Which you already know. _

_ > Right. _

Another few minutes of silence passes, and Ramona sighs as she stares at the screen. Maybe Kim's gone to bed- it  _ is  _ past eleven at night, after all. She's almost given up hope when Kim texts again about seven minutes later.

_ > Sorry, was taking care of something. _

_ I hope I didn't wake you up or anything. That'd be a dick move. _

_ > No, it's okay. I wasn't quite asleep. _

_ > Cool. _

_ Can I say something stupid? _

Ramona raises her eyebrows. Much to think about.

_ > It can't be *that* stupid. _

_ > Well, it is. _

_ > Either way, go ahead. _

_ > Okay.  _

_ I kinda wanna get to know you. I mean, I'm bored as hell, and I thought I was going to be texting this guy, which I *wasn't* in the end, so now I have nothing to do but sleep, and I don't think I want to do that right now. _

A smile breaks out across Ramona's face. Yeah, she's definitely down for that; she needs all the friends she can get. Having recently moved to not just a new city but a whole new  _ country,  _ she hasn’t gotten herself a wide circle of friends quite yet.

_ > Yeah, sure! See, that’s not stupid. _

_ > If you say so.  _

_ > I do! _

_ Should I, like, send a pic or something? I don’t know what else to do. I’m not used to getting to know people over text. _

_ > Yeah, that’d be cool. Would be nice to know who I’m talking to. _

With a yawn, Ramona slides out of bed and heads for the bathroom. It’s probably embarrassing to take a picture in the bathroom mirror, but she doesn’t have a full-length one, so she’ll just have to make do. After fixing her bedhead- why does she want to impress this Kim girl so much?- she snaps a picture in the mirror and sends it to Kim, leaning against the vanity as she stares at the screen in anticipation.

_ > Oh, wow. _

Ramona raises her eyebrows. Not exactly the reaction she was expecting, but she’ll take it.

> _ I’ll take that as a compliment. _

_ Now it’s your turn! _

It takes a few minutes for Kim to respond, but when she does, Ramona isn’t disappointed by any means. The girl staring back up at her from her phone is beautiful, with bobbed red hair and freckles; she’s not smiling, but Ramona doesn’t mind. 

_ > Wow yourself! You’re cute. _

_ > Huh. People don’t call me that often. _

_...Forget I said that. _

_ > If you’re sure. But it’s true, for the record. _

_ > Well, thanks. _

Ramona scrolls back up and stares at the picture Kim’s taken; it’s almost mesmerizing. It occurs to her that her bicurious phase in college may not have been that much of a phase, which she’d suspected for a while, but this is pretty definitive proof. She hasn’t really properly met her, though; what if that picture’s not even of her, just something she found on the Internet? But there’s something that draws her to her, and who is she to say no to that? 

_ > Ramona? Did you go to bed? _

Ramona blinks and shakes her head as she realizes she hadn’t responded to Kim.

_ > No, sorry. I was just about to tell you you’re welcome. _

_ > Oh, okay. _

_ What do you do, anyway? Like, for a living?  _

_ I feel like that’s what I should be asking. _

Ramona pushes herself away from the vanity and heads back into the bedroom, flopping down on her bed in an undignified manner for a few seconds before curling into a fetal position. 

_ > I work for Amazon. I’m a delivery girl. _

_ > Hey, that’s pretty respectable. I work at No-Account Video. You been there? _

_ > Not yet. I actually just moved here from NYC. _

_ I’ll make sure to stop by there, though. _

_ Maybe tomorrow? _

> _ Are you asking me out? _

Ramona thinks on it for a second. She certainly wouldn’t  _ mind  _ going on a date with someone as cute as Kim, and she seems like an interesting person to talk to, so what’s the point in saying no? Before she can answer, though, another text from Kim comes in.

_ > Sorry. That was a joke. _

...Oh. Ramona’s face falls, and she sighs. Well, at least she didn’t get her hopes up or anything. Still...

_ > It didn’t have to be. _

_ > Wait. _

_ So you *are* asking me on a date? _

_ > Um, yeah. Is that okay? I guess I didn’t even ask if you’re into girls. _

_ > No, no, I’m definitely into girls. _

Score one for Ramona.

_ > Cool. _

_ Well, is it a yes? _

_ > You know what? Sure. You seem a hell of a lot better than that guy I thought I was texting. _

_ > Cool. Noon tomorrow? _

_ > Sounds good. _


	2. pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost forgot to publish this today because i was too busy sleeping and also crying. my life's a mess but these shades are gucci

Kim Pine hates her last name.  _ Hates  _ it. The reason she hates it is that it's what she's been doing for the past… however long, and it’s basically taunting her; unfortunately, since she’s not getting married anytime soon, there’s no excuse for her to change it or whatever. She’s  _ certainly  _ not getting married, because the one person she wants is so, so far away from her: Ramona Flowers.

Okay, she’s not  _ actually  _ that far away. They live in the same city, and they’re fairly close friends. It’s just that, when they sit next to each other at the movie theater or they go to concerts together, it’s like they’re a million worlds apart. Even when they’re almost touching, Ramona feels so… distant. And, of course, the feelings only get more unbearable when she’s trashed.

“Kim,” Ramona says, stretching the one-syllable name into at least three or four, “you… are  _ beautiful.”  _ Her eyes are half-lidded, voice tripping over itself, and Kim can’t help but look away.

“Um, thanks,” she says, picking at a loose thread on her shirt. Her words cut through the air, clumsy with inebriation. “You are, too. Like, really beautiful.” It’s the truth, objectively; Ramona always knows just what to wear and what color to dye her hair, but more importantly, she’s got a pretty face, stunning eyes, and a rockin’ body, though Kim would never use that word to describe it.

She already had rosy cheeks from drinking, but Ramona’s blush only deepens. “Why, thank you,” she says, and smiles that smile that leaves Kim blind with love. “Have I told you I love your hair? And your freckles?”

“A few times. Usually when you’re drunk.”

“Oh. I should tell it to you while you’re sober.”

“Maybe so.” Kim leans back against the headboard and closes her eyes for a moment. Still, she doesn’t have it in her to close them for long; she sneaks a peek at Ramona, who’s grabbing the bottle of scotch- Kim’s choice of booze- from between them. It’s hard to keep her eyes off of her. 

Unfortunately, there’s a very important issue with the whole pining thing: she’s not entirely certain that Ramona isn’t straight- she’s never seen her with anyone other than a man, after all. There’s only one way to find out, though, so… “I’ve got a quick question,” Kim says, opening her eyes fully again. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“What is it?” Ramona asks, sticking the cork back into the mouth of the bottle.

“Um…” Kim clears her throat. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”

Ramona cracks up at that for no apparent reason; Kim can relate- she’s equally as half-cut, and shit’s just funnier when you’re drunk. “Um, yeah, actually,” she answers when she’s finished.

Kim sighs in utter relief and thanks God, who she doesn’t actually really believe in anymore. Maybe this’ll all work out. ...Unless she’s just heteroflexible or had a phase or whatever. “Okay, I have another, then.”

“Hit me.”

“Would you ever do it again?” Kim asks. “Like… are you  _ into  _ girls, or were you just messing around and stuff?”

“Oh, no, believe me, I’m  _ into  _ into girls.” Her mouth quirks into a smile. “Why, what?”

Kim shrugs. “I was just trying to see how much we have in common. I mean, it’s no secret that I’m bi, but you… I’ve never seen you with a woman.” It’s a clumsy lie, but sue her.

“Do you want to?” Ramona asks, leaning in a few inches.

Kim gulps, fingers tightening around handfuls of the sheets. “Do I… um.”

“Kim. Kimberly.  _ Do you want to kiss me?” _

Trying to contain herself, Kim gives the measured response of, “Uh-huh.” She shakes despite the alcohol-induced warmth, blood raised to her skin alongside hair that’s standing on end. When their lips are almost touching, though, she swallows and backs away, wracked with guilt. “Wait, Ramona, I-”

Ramona tilts her head. “What’s the matter? I thought… I mean, you said yes.”

“It’s just…” Kim inhales deeply, then sighs it out. “I like you, okay? And… I don’t want to fuck things up and be selfish and make things weird for you, cuz this is all for fun, right?”

“For fun?” Ramona repeats, and laughs. “I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to kiss you for forever. I mean, believe it or not, I’m not just some sprightly, impulsive… whatever.”

“Oh.” Kim blinks, and, when here eyes are open again, they’re widened. “Okay. Um. That’s cool with me. That’s… really cool with me.” 

“Cool,” Ramona says. “...So, are we gonna do this or what?”

“Absolutely.” Kim takes a deep breath and leans in, and, a moment later, Ramona’s lips are on hers. It’s been so long since she’s been kissed, really  _ kissed,  _ that it feels like an all new sensation. She smiles into it, and, after a couple seconds, brings her hand up to cup the back of Ramona’s neck.

It’s Ramona who breaks away, in the end; with a chuckle, she dips her head and says, “Wow, okay. I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, a million years.”

“Maybe we should do it sober sometime,” Kim says. When the weight of what’s just happened sets in, though, her heart nearly bursts in her chest. Ramona  _ actually  _ likes her back, and… it’s not like her self-esteem is terrible, but it’s hard when she’s been single for what seems like ages. Part of that is because she’s been pining over Ramona, to be fair; there  _ was  _ her friend Jason who asked her out, but he jumped over to Hollie pretty damn quick when she rejected him, so who knows how important she really was to him?

“Yeah,” Ramona says, brushing a lock of hair out of Kim’s face, “maybe we should.” She leans in and gives Kim a peck on the lips, which has her heart doing circus tricks all over again. It’s brief, though, and soon enough, she’s back at the scotch. “We can leave that ‘til tomorrow morning, though.”

“Gimme some of that,” Kim says, and snags the bottle, to which Ramona gives a laugh. “What? ‘s my booze!”

“True. You’re just…”

Kim snorts. “I’m just…?”

“Cute.” And there’s that bright smile of hers again, and Kim’s helpless.


	3. movie au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prompt was probably made for romcoms, but i've literally never seen a romcom in my life so it's annihilation. you're welcome for not making an american psycho au. i tried to give as much context as possible but :""")

“What’re you doing up? I’m on guard ‘til three.” Ramona’s voice pierces the night, but at the same time, it remains gentle; it’s simply the quiet around her, broken only by the sound of crickets chirping, that amplifies her words.

“Can’t sleep,” Kim says simply. “Or, I could, but now I can’t. Whatever.” She tucks a few strands of red hair behind her ear as she enters the guard post.

Ramona hums her acknowledgement, staring for a moment longer at Kim before she pulls something out of one of the pockets of her baggy pants. “Come look at this,” she says, and gestures for Kim to come over to the railing. When Kim approaches, she notes that it’s a map, which Ramona now points to, saying, “Okay, so, this is where we are, and  _ this-”  _ she points to a dot a few inches away- “is the lighthouse.”

The lighthouse. If there’s anywhere that holds the answer to the Shimmer’s never-ending stream of questions- ‘why is all this shit mutating’ being the main one- it’s there. Really, Kim just wants to be done with the damn thing so she can get back to, say,  _ work  _ like any normal adult, so it’s a relief that it doesn’t look too far away. 

“Southwest of us is this little village thingy that they evacuated. We should go there tomorrow.” With her words, it’s almost as if she’s inviting Kim to go to the mall or a restaurant, but the tone of her voice is deadly serious. “After that, we can head out for the coast,” she adds.

Kim stares down at the map for another few moments, then looks up at Ramona. Something about her looks so beautiful under the light of the moon, but she can’t focus on that- has to keep going on this goddamn exploring-the-Shimmer thing. Plus, Scott’s not dead quite yet, and what kind of person develops feelings for another when their boyfriend’s on his deathbed?

“Pine? What’re you staring at?”

Kim shakes her head, Ramona’s words having brought her back to reality. “Right. Um, sounds good,” she says. 

There’s silence, then, for a few moments. Kim steps away, sighing, but turns back when Ramona asks, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Kim asks in return, though she knows it’s a stupid question. She just saw her boyfriend cut open another man to reveal his squirming intestines; how’s she supposed to take that? Is he a murderer? But the other man, whatever his name was, was the one telling him to do it... Much to fucking think about.

“I mean… I’m sure you know.”

Kim sighs again, runs a hand through her hair. “I know.”

More silence.

“I was going to say, when you didn’t tell the team about how you’re dating Pilgrim, I wasn’t really sure about it,” Ramona says. “Transparency for transparency’s sake.”

Kim nods and leans against the railing opposite Ramona.

“But after seeing what was on that camcorder… I mean, it’s probably for the best,” Ramona continues.

“Yeah, probably,” Kim says, and sighs. “Can’t imagine it’d be fun being the girlfriend of a guy who just… well. You saw the footage.”

Kim nods again, still silent. After a few minutes- possibly a few seconds, but it’s hard to tell time right now- she asks, “Why did my boyfriend go on this… suicide mission?” 

Ramona raises her eyebrows. “Is that what we’re doing? Committing suicide?”

“Well… yeah,” Kim says. “Nobody else has made it out alive besides him. People are mutating or killing each other or both. And he  _ knew  _ that.” She tilts her head back. “I mean, you must’ve profiled him, assessed him, whatever.”

“So you’re asking me as a psychologist?” Ramona asks.

“Yeah.”

“Then, as a psychologist…” Ramona trails off for a few moments, presumably collecting her thoughts. “I’d say you’re confusing suicide with self-destruction.”

Kim stares blankly at her.

“What I mean is… almost none of us kill ourselves,” Ramona continues, “and almost all of us self-destruct in some way or another. We drink or we smoke or whatever, or cheat on our boyfriends…” She clears her throat, at which Kim raises an eyebrow, but she says nothing. “But these aren’t decisions, really. They’re impulses. In fact, you could probably explain it better than I could.”

“Um… why?” Kim asks.

“You’re a biologist,” Ramona says. “Self-destruction is coded into us, right? Programmed cell death.”

Kim is about to respond when there comes a noise from the forest. “What the hell was that?” she asks, grabbing her gun; Ramona does the same. 

“I don’t know.”


	4. punk x pastel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to my entire 12 readers that i didnt publish it yesterday, it wasnt ideal posting hours & then i had work & then went on a walk & then had therapy & then dinner & then slept from 8 to 3 so  
> ...yeah

“What the hell is a ‘punk and pastel’ party?” Kim mutters to herself, hands shoved in the pockets of her khaki shorts. She’s ashamed to admit that she spent money on the outfit for one of Julie’s parties of all things, but she had the extra cash, and it’s not like the skate punk look is too outrageously far from what she’d be wearing anyway. 

The rest of Sex Bob-Omb- who are, they’d established, equally as unenthused about the concept that was clearly just Julie grasping for straws- trail a few yards behind her, alongside Young Neil. Scott looks pretty good in a leather jacket that he bought from Goodwill in true punk fashion, but Stephen just looks weird with a pink streak in his hair (at Julie’s insistence), and Neil… Kim’s not even sure what Neil was going for. Doesn’t matter, though; it’s something to complain about, which is just what she needs sometimes.

And something to complain about it is; when Kim steps inside, it’s an absolute mess. Someone’s spilled some sort of alcohol (she assues), which now leaves a stain by the door, which she steps over, and someone’s patched-up denim jacket and their white tank top have been discarded near the exit to the balcony, meaning there’s someone out there who’s shirtless and probably being made out with.

Kim tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and sighs, trying to ignore the people she either a) doesn’t like or b) doesn’t care about- which makes up most of the crowd besides Scott, Stephen, and Neil- and heads out onto the balcony. She could use a breath of fresh air and some time away from the body heat. It’s a pretty nice night out; the moon’s full (the last time that happened, Julie threw a werewolf-themed party, which was… interesting, to say the least) and the breeze is crisp, but not blustery. Crossing her arms on the railing, she looks up at the sky, studying the stars and satellites and killing time discerning them from one another.

And then, out of the blue, there’s someone next to her.

Kim glances over toward the newcomer and finds that she’s… well, gorgeous. She’s got pale purple hair- it’s a punk and  _ pastel  _ party, after all- and blue eyes, and she’s wearing a pink and yellow dress that looks perfect for Easter, if she celebrates it. Kim’s trying not to stare, but her gaze eventually catches the stranger’s eye, and she gives a wry smile. “So,” she says, “how’s the party?”

Kim huffs a laugh, flicking her gaze back up to the darkened sky. “It’s one of Julie’s. So… whine-worthy.”

The stranger hums her agreement, resting one elbow on the railing and one cheek on the cupped hand. “Oh well. It gives me an excuse to dye my hair again. It was bright blue this morning.” When Kim turns back, she smiles, and it’s dazzling; Kim doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but if this girl wanted to kiss her, she wouldn’t really mind.

“Well, it looks good,” she says. “What’s your natural color?”

“Good question.” The stranger blinks, then opens her eyes wide. “Oh, I guess I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Ramona.” 

“Kim,” Kim says simply. With great reluctance, she tilts her head upward to stare at the moon. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to actually meet anyone I like here. Julie sure hangs out with some… questionable people.”

Ramona rolls her eyes, snorting. “Yeah, no kidding. There was this guy who just… came up to me and started talking abut Pac-Man. Like… okay, I’m gonna go now.”

Kim is silent for a moment before it clicks; she laughs, then, cracking a genuine smile for the first time since she arrived at the party. When Ramona cocks her head and gives her an inquisitive look, she asks, “Did he have red hair?”

“Uh-huh,” Ramona says. “Why, do you know him?”

“I’m in a band with him,” Kim answers. She neglects to mention that the two of them dated in high school; there’s no reason for Ramona- or anyone else- to know that.

“Really?” Ramona laughs as well, then shifts her position so she’s leaning against the railing with one elbow on it, facing Kim completely. “Well, he’s a weird guy. I like you better.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kim says, secretly quite enthused. 

“D’you wanna get a drink?” Ramona asks, apropos of nothing. “I did a little searching, and it turns out Julie’s got my favorite type of tequila, so…”

Kim ponders it for a second before deciding that there’s no real reason for her to object. It’s not like she’s attached or anything; she’s just a pretty girl who wants to do shots with her. What’s there to complain about? “Yeah, sure,” she says. 

Kim’s heart nearly stops in her chest when Ramona takes her by the wrist and pulls her back inside, leading her between the partygoers that linger around. The touch is actually really nice; she’s loath to tell people this for fear of garnering unwelcome attention, but she’s quite the fan of physical touch. She passes Scott on the way; he glances at Ramona with a pout, which Kim rolls her eyes at. Hey, the guy had his chance and he screwed it up.

Before Kim realizes they’re there, Ramona’s reached the table where the booze and snacks are situated and grabs the tequila. “Nobody will miss it,” she says, flashing Kim a mischievous smile.

“And nobody will miss me. C’mon, let’s get outta here.”


	5. song inspired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song is "the dress looks nice on you" by sufjan stevens #streamsevenswans

“That dress looks nice on you.”

Kim’s already forgotten the name of the clothing store they’re currently hanging around- it’s not one of the places she usually goes- and she’s picked out her clothes, but Ramona, who’s a little more concerned about her appearance, is still trying things on. 

She’s not the hugest fan of dresses, Kim. She doesn’t  _ mind  _ them, per se- it doesn’t give her hives to wear them- but they’re not her go-to garment, and she only has a few in her wardrobe. Despite this, she can tell when a dress is pretty, and, in her opinion, one of the criteria is ‘is Ramona wearing the dress?’ If so, it’s a good dress.

“You think?” Ramona asks, expression brightening. It’s knee-length and pale blue with white lace trimming; regardless of her presence, it’d still be pretty, but Kim’s inclined to think that every dress looks a little better when it’s on Ramona. (So what if she’s soft for her girlfriend? It’s nobody’s business.)

Kim nods, crosses her legs. “I like it. It goes well with your hair.”

Ramona’s hair is what used to be bright blue, but is now fading into more of a pastel look; it really does match nicely- for now. “True,” she says, “but I’ll probably dye it again in a couple weeks, so…”

“Well, it’s not like you’ll never dye it blue again. And it’s not a travesty if it doesn’t match your hair for a couple months.” Kim smiles, runs her gaze down to the bottom of the dress and back. “Yeah, the dress looks nice on you.”

Ramona smiles in turn and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, settling one hand on her hip. “Well, thanks, Kim,” she says. “Really. You look nice, too.”

Kim glances down, studying her own outfit. It’s decent- a hoodie partially obscuring a graphic tee of a swan with outstretched wings, plus jean shorts. (Don’t ask her why she’s wearing shorts and a hoodie; the weather outside is all weird. It’s that time of year.) “Really?” is all she can say. After all, it’s not like she’s dolled up or anything. 

“Yes, really,” Ramona says, and strides over to the bench where Kim’s seated; the dress looks even better in motion. “But you look nice all the time. That’s just a fact of life.” She sits down next to Kim, leaning against her and closing her eyes. “You’re also very comfy.”

“It’s the hoodie,” Kim says, utterly enamored.

“No, you’re comfy because I love you,” Ramona says. Her voice is hushed; Kim understands, as, as much as she loves Ramona back, she’d rather die than submit to the mortifying ordeal of having strangers know just how in love she really is.

She smiles, huffs a breath of laughter. “Uh-huh. Well, I love you, too.”


	6. best friends to lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fact that ramona was canonly a Tough Girl in high school delights me to no end. anyway theyre in Love

september.

Ramona slings her bag over the back of her chair and flops down into it, crossing her arms over her chest. Class hasn’t started yet, but there’s an assigned seating chart scrawled on the chalkboard, so she’s already being told what to do- what a drag. She turns her head to the right, studying the girl who’s sitting next to her: freckles, red hair, half-lidded eyes- she looks the way Ramona feels. The girl doesn’t look back.

“So,” Ramona says, turning her gaze back to the board. “We’re contractually obligated to be best friends, I suppose.”

“I suppose,” the girl echoes. After a few seconds, she adds, “I’m Kim, if you couldn’t read.”

Ramona can read, but she wasn’t really looking for anyone else’s seat but hers. “Nice to meet you,” she says, which is pretty true. She’s not  _ misanthropic,  _ not really, no matter how she’s been coming off during this particular phase.

“Nice to meet you, too…” Kim leans forward to peer at the seating chart up front. “Ramona Flowers.”

november.

Actually, the best friends thing isn’t too far off-base. It’s Ramona’s first year at St. Joel’s- seeing as she previously lived, like, a million miles away, down in the middle of the US of A- which means that Kim was pretty much the first person she met in Ontario, and thus automatically her closest friend.

“You know,” Ramona says one day, lying beneath a tree alongside Kim, “I think you  _ are  _ my best friend.”

“Oh. I kind of just assumed.” Kim looks over toward her and is silent for a few moments before she adds, “I mean, I don’t see you with other people more than you’re around me, I guess. Not even…” She trails off, turning back.

“...Not even  _ what?”  _ Ramona asks, quirking an eyebrow as she turns her body toward Kim’s. 

“Not even a boy,” Kim answers finally. “I mean, don’t you have a crush or anything?”

Truth be told, Ramona  _ does  _ have a crush. It’s just that it happens to be on Kim, which has the potential to be a whole mess and a half, and she can’t risk fucking up her best friendship. Besides, she’s perfectly content just being friends with Kim. That’s what she tells herself, anyway.

december.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” Kim says, leaning back against Ramona’s couch. “My family doesn’t even stay up to watch the countdown. I have to sneak downstairs to watch it by myself… and we don’t get champagne.”

Ramona’s face twists into a scowl. “What, really? The champagne’s the best part.  _ Well…” _

Kim eyes her, looking intrigued. “Well? What’s better than parentally guided underage drinking?”

Ramona swallows sharply. Her crush on Kim has gotten pretty unbearable to live with, and it’s not like she wants to risk flirting any more than she did before, but she can’t help it, really. “I mean… kissing someone at midnight is pretty cool.”

Kim stares at her for a moment longer, than huffs a breath of laughter. “You’ve kissed people at midnight? How’d you swing that?”

“...Well, okay, so technically I haven’t,” Ramona says, which isn’t a lie- this is the first time a friend’s parents have agreed to let their kid come over to hang out on New Year’s Eve. “But I assume it’s pretty great.”

“So you’re just guessing.”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ramona says, and bites back a,  _ Do you wanna try it out? _

february.

Kim’s been acting weird all day. She won’t look Ramona in the eyes for more than a few moments, which is surprising, since she’s prone to staring. She also won’t just open up to Ramona about it, for God’s sake. Ramona can only assume it’s because it’s Valentine’s Day, but she hasn’t mentioned a crush at all, so what’s the deal with her?

“What’s the deal with you?” Ramona asks as they walk back from school, headed back to Kim’s house. “You’ve been acting sketchy all day. It’s weirding me out.”

“Oh,” Kim says, which doesn’t count as an answer. “Um… nothing, really.”

It’s a blatant lie, but Ramona is hesitant to press. Ever since she developed this stupid crush- it feels like a million years ago now- she’s been hesitant to push Kim to do anything, really, for fear that she’d run away. “If you’re sure,” she says.

“I am. ...I guess.”

Ramona lets it go. “Okay, well. Do you have any good snacks at your house? I’m hungry.”

“I have some marshmallows, I think. Not entirely sure why.” Kim averts her gaze, staring at the concrete beneath their feet. 

“That works.”

april.

“Your parents are so nice, always letting me sleep over,” Kim says, sitting down on Ramona’s bed. She’s clad in a simple purple pajama shirt and shorts, but it looks so cute on her for some reason, just like everything else- that’s Ramona’s opinion, anyway.

“They’re just glad I have friends, I guess,” Ramona says. “Which isn’t to say I didn’t have friends back in America, just… they were worried about me adjusting.”

“Ah.” Kim lets herself fall back onto the matress, staring up at the ceiling. Ramona mourns the loss of eye contact- she could study her irises forever, as creepy as that sounds. She just has pretty eyes.

Ramona pushes herself away from the doorframe, which she was leaning against, and walks over to the bed, taking a seat next to Kim. “So,” she says, “d’you wanna do anything else before we go to bed? It’s only half past eleven.”

Kim is silent for a few moments before she says, “Can we play truth or dare?”

“Ooh, sure,” Ramona says, and flops back onto the bed herself. “Who’s going first?”

“I can do it,” Kim says. “Truth or dare?”

“Uh… dare,” Ramona decides. If she were to have to tell Kim who her crush was, she’d just about die. Not that she couldn’t lie, but… lying to Kim feels so weird, like her guts are twisting. 

“Okay. Uh…” She sits up and points at a poster on Ramona’s wall. “Who’s that guy?”

“Huh? That’s Ian Curtis,” Ramona says. “You know, from Joy Division?”

“Oh. I guess I never knew what he looked like.” Kim stares at the poster for a moment longer, then glances toward Ramona. “I dare you to kiss him.”

“Kiss a poster?” Ramona snorts. “That’s so... embarrassing.”

“Hey, a dare’s a dare.”

Ramona sighs, acquiescing, then walks over to the poster. After a few moments, she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips to poster-Curtis’, which tastes really, really weird. “Eugh. Okay, I’m never doing that again,” she says when she draws away, turning back to Kim. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Kim says after a few moments. “Hit me.”

Ramona worries her lip. Does she dare ask her…? She doesn’t even know if Kim  _ has  _ a crush, and if she were to say it was on someone else, then what would she do? She’d probably drop dead, that’s what. Still… “Do you have a crush?”

Kim is silent for a while. Then, with hesitancy clear in her voice, she says, “...I do.”

...Hm. Definitely a lot to think about. “So,” Ramona says, “who is it?”

“One question. You get  _ one  _ question.”

Though she doesn’t  _ want  _ to guilt trip Kim, Ramona absolutely has to know or she will, as stated before,  _ also  _ drop dead. It’s really a pickle she’s gotten herself into. “C’mon. For me? Cuz I’m your best friend?”

Kim mumbles something that Ramona can’t quite hear, turning away.

“Huh?” Ramona asks.

“I  _ said,”  _ Kim says, “...that’s the problem.”

Oh. “...Uh. What’s that supposed to mean?” Ramona asks, though she has a feeling she knows. Still, she can’t get her hopes up…

“...It means I like you,” Kim says. Her voice is soft, softer than Ramona’s ever heard it, and it pierces her heart like a knife, if that knife were made of hearts and rainbows. 

“What, really?” Ramona asks, leaning in. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in  _ ages.” _

“Wait, so you like me back?” Kim turns back to Ramona, and there’s this smile on her face that has her weak. “That’s… amazing. Hey, maybe life isn’t a  _ total  _ drag.”

“Maybe not,” Ramona says. After a pause, she says, “...So… d’you wanna kiss about it or something?”

“Uh-huh,” Kim says, and scoots closer.

“I’m cool with that.”


	7. bed sharing

“Ramona?”

“Mmhm?”

_ “Why  _ is this place so cold?” Kim wraps her blanket tighter around her, fixing Ramona with a flat gaze. “It’s Toronto in the middle of winter; you’d think you’d have a working furnace.”

“Landlord sucks,” Ramona says, though it’s not much of an explanation, really. “And it does work! Just… not very well.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Kim mutters. She’s seated on Ramona’s bed, kitty-corner from her; they’d gone on a little movie friend-date together, but by the time they got back to Ramona’s place, Kim didn’t really feel like going back to a home where she loathes her roommate. She doesn’t really have the energy for it, even if she cuts out the travel time via subspace. It’s an emotional sort of thing.

“Well, I’m sorry about it,” Ramona says, “genuinely.” She slides under the comforter, curling up into a fetal position and pressing her head against the pillow. She keeps looing at Kim, though, not closing her eyes. “And I have to  _ live  _ here.”

“I’d offer to have you come back to my place, but I’m out as much as possible, so.” Kim sighs. For some reason, ever since she got cheated on, she wants to spend less time with Hollie. Who’da thunk? 

Ramona shoots her a sympathetic look for a moment before shifting her gaze away, looking mildly guilty. Kim doesn’t particularly feel like thinking about what that could mean. “That really does suck,” she says. “Is there anywhere else you could go? You know, someplace that has a working furnace?”

Mildly wounded, Kim asks, “What, are you kicking me out?”

“What? Oh, God, no,” Ramona says. “Just… I mean… well, why would you rather be here where it’s cold as hell rather than… I don’t know. Stephen and Neil’s place?” 

“Because I prefer your company,” Kim says, which isn’t a lie in the slightest, but it still feels weird to say. In fact, Ramona is weird to be around; she makes her chest feel a little fuzzy. Mark that down as another thing she doesn’t particularly feel like thinking about the meaning of.

“Gotcha.”

There’s silence for a few moments, just the two of them staring at each other, before Ramona says, “You can get under the covers, if you want. Extra warmth.” 

Kim swallows sharply, still staring at Ramona. She hasn’t really shared a bed with anyone in ages, and… truth be told, she misses it. “Yeah, alright,” she says finally, and does so. It’s warmer, just like Ramona says, although the cold still manages to bite at her. Still, it’s better than just having one blanket.

“Y’know,” Ramona says, “maybe we should huddle for warmth.”

Kim blinks and turns her head toward her. Is she joking? She’s gotta be kidding. “That’s a joke, right?” she asks.

Ramona shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be. I’m still kinda freezing, so…”

“I mean… I don’t  _ mind,”  _ Kim says. Shit, what’s she saying? Of course she minds! She definitely minds, and she certainly hasn’t been thinking about holding Ramona for ages. Still, she’s said what she’s said, so… there’s no coming back from that.

“Cool.” Ramona scoots toward Kim, who in turn brings herself closer.

Kim clears her throat, glances away. “...So… how should I…”

“Just hold me.  _ Ceci n’est pas _ deep,” Ramona says with a shrug.

“Uh, well… here goes,” Kim says. She pulls Ramona close, placing a hand on the curve between her ribs and her hip; their faces are inches apart, and there’s no better time to… to…

“Well,” Ramona says, startling Kim out of her reverie, “maybe we should go to bed. It’s getting pretty late.” To emphasize the fact, she turns away and yawns, covering her mouth with one fist.

“Um. Yeah, I guess,” Kim says, disappointment wriggling its way into her heart despite her internal protests. Okay, so she likes Ramona, but that’s nobody’s business but her own.

Ramona settles her head on her pillow again. “Cool. Well, goodnight.”

“Yeah,” Kim says, and sighs. “Goodnight.”


	8. royalty au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so glad prom royalty exists in canada because i would Absolutely not be able to write like... a fantasy royalty au... nor would i want to. also this exists in a world where homophobia doesn't because it's my femslash february fic and i make the rules

Kim really doesn’t want to be up onstage much at all. She’s only here because she’s Ramona’s girlfriend and she knows it; nobody knows much about her, but Ramona’s always got guys crawling all over her, despite the fact that she’s taken- c’est la vie  _ bisexuelle,  _ she supposes. Still, she stands dutifully next to her, fingers twitching as she resists the urge to reach out and hold her hand. 

The vice principal, acting as an MC, is speaking into his microphone; Kim is awakened to that fact when the other students start slapping their thighs gently in a makeshift drumroll. “And 1997’s prom king and queen-”

Ah, so it’s a boy-girl couple. Kim can’t help but be a little disappointed; it’s not like she’s heartbroken that she’s not getting the crown, but it  _ would  _ be pretty cool, and Ramona was fairly excited about it, too. Not to mention-

“- are Ramona Flowers and Kim Pine!”

Kim blinks, staring at the vice principal for a moment, then glancing over to Ramona. “...Huh?” she asks, face falling into a confused frown.

“We  _ won,  _ Kim,” Ramona says, and there’s a gentle smile on her face that soothes Kim’s mild case of nerves. “Pretty cool of us, huh?” (Her American accent comes through loud and clear.)

Before Kim can respond, she’s being presented with the crown by someone she’s pretty sure is one of the math teachers; the woman, whoever she is, sets it on her head, where it hangs… not heavily, but awkwardly. She glances to her left; Ramona’s head is adorned with the tiara. “So I’m the king, eh?” she says under her breath.

“Would the king- uh, queens, please come to the center of the dancefloor?” the vice principal says, and space is cleared for them by the rest of the court, allowing them to step down the stairs and do as instructed.

Kim’s never really danced before. She knows she’s supposed to let loose and let the music move her, but the music that’s played at dances really isn’t her thing- she’s more a rock kind of girl than one who likes slow dance music- so she has no real urge to get down to it. Still, she places one hand on Ramona’s hip and uses the other to clasp hers. They’d practiced slow dancing for weeks beforehand on the off-chance they were forced to dance instead of escaping to play card games in the lower floor of the building before going to an afterparty and getting absolutely shitfaced, so it comes fairly easy to her; despite that, it’s a little weird dancing as everyone stares. 

“So,” Ramona says about half a minute into the song, and is about to finish her sentence when a chant rises from the crowd:

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“I guess that’s our cue,” she says instead, and smiles a gentle, disarming grin at Kim.

“Right.” Kim’s mouth quirks into a tiny smile of her own; when Ramona leans in, she leans in as well, catching her painted lips in a moment of tenderness that she wishes were a little more private. When she pulls apart, their lips just centimeters away, she adds, “I love you.” It’s too hushed a proclamation for anyone else to hear, which is the point. It’s the first time she’s said it to her- or to anyone, really- but what better time to say it?

Ramona huffs a laugh, cheeks reddening slightly. “I love you, too.”


	9. first kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like there's something that needs to be said here but im not sure what because i am very distracted. enjoy

“Kim, you’ve never had your first kiss?”

There’s a touch of incredulity in Ramona’s voice, which is flattering, in a way, but insulting in another. Like, should she take it as ‘you deserve to have had your first kiss’ or ‘you’re such a loser for not having had it yet when you’re in the eleventh grade’? Given that Ramona isn’t a total ass, Kim opts to assume the former.

“No, I haven’t,” she says, then pauses. “Well, I kissed Scott on the cheek once, but that was mostly out of pity.” She neglects to mention that she did, at one point, have a crush on Scott; that’s irrelevant right now. 

Ramona hums, leaning against the wall as she sits in bed; she stares up at the ceiling for a moment, then turns her gaze to Kim. “Does it bother you?” she asks. 

Kim considers it-  _ does  _ it bother her? Maybe a little. It’s not really one of her main priorities, but having some intimacy with another person would be pretty nice; she’d take a held hand, but kissing is even better. “Um, I dunno,” she says, which is close to the truth. “I guess I’m okay with it, but it’s not really my favorite thing about myself.” She adjusts her ponytail, splitting it in two and pulling so that the hair tie lies closer to her scalp. 

Ramona’s eyes flit back to the ceiling. “I had mine in the seventh grade. Not to brag.”

“It seems a little braggish of you.”

“My bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. ...Who was it with?” Kim finds that she’s oddly curious- why should she care so much about who Ramona’s kissed? Well, they’re close friends, so there’s that, but what if she’s jealous? Kim shakes her head, dismissing the thought; she doesn’t think of Ramona like that. She doesn’t think of anyone like that right now.

When she tunes back into the conversation, Ramona’s already explaining. “And they were all over me, right? So me and this kid Matthew Patel got together and wrecked their shit. I kissed him once, then dumped him.” She looks a little guilty as she says it, but the expression is only there momentarily. 

“Huh.” Maybe she’s lucky not to have kissed Ramona if she can brush people off that easily. (What’s she thinking about? Why does she think so much about kissing Ramona? Is she about to have some sort of awakening? Oh, God, say it ain’t so.)

“‘Huh’?” Ramona echoes. Her lips tick into a wry smile as she adds, “Kim, we were all bitches in the seventh grade.”

“I’m still a bitch,” Kim says, distracted. “...Anyway, do  _ you  _ think it’s bad that I’ve never had my first kiss?”

Ramona closes her eyes as she ponders it, which worries Kim a bit. After a little while, she looks like she’s fallen asleep, which, of course, only makes Kim  _ more  _ nervous; she’s about to prod her in the shoulder with two fingers when she pipes up. “No,” she says, “but I’m sort of jealous. I don’t think I’ve kissed anyone I really cared deeply about, y’know?”

“I get you,” Kim says. “Do they have to count?”

“What? Of course they do,” Ramona says, opening her eyes again. “Why wouldn’t they count?”

“Because… I don’t know.” Kim falls silent for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. “You could just lie about it. Say you had your first kiss when you were seventeen, because that was the first time it mattered.” 

Ramona quirks an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling up into another smile, one that isn’t cynical but amused. “Who says I’m kissing someone who matters to me this year?” 

Kim’s eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she’s said. Shit. “I mean, maybe it’s not necessarily while you’re seventeen, but…”

“No, no, continue digging your own grave,” Ramona says with a snort of laughter. “You know I don’t really have many friends here yet, just you and Scott, and as much as I love Scott… I couldn’t picture it happening.”

“Right.”

“But I suppose I could see myself losing my someone-I-actually-care-about kissginity this year, you’re right.” Ramona turns her head fully towards Kim. “I mean, it’s not like I  _ wouldn’t  _ kiss you.”

Holy shit.

“Um, okay.” Kim clears her throat. “I mean… I would too,” she admits. “Probably. I don’t know. You’re pretty, and also my best friend, so.”

Ramona smiles, a brilliant thing that leaves Kim shaken. Shit, she’s in deep- probably has been for a while now. “Cool,” Ramona says, bringing Kim back to the present. “So… should we? For the sake of first kisses.”

“Um.” Kim swallows down the lump in her throat; then, as a shaky smile spreads across her face, she continues, “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Sweet.” Ramona and Kim stare at each other for a few agonizingly long seconds before Ramona starts to lean in, eyes falling shut.

Kim stiffens for a moment, but, not wanting to leave Ramona hanging, she leans in as well and brings her lips to Ramona’s. Kissing is… weird. Weird, in this case, does  _ not  _ mean bad. Ramona’s lips are soft-  _ very  _ soft- and she seems pretty experienced, despite not having had a boyfriend- or a girlfriend- for quite a while. Maybe it’s just the confidence.

When Ramona finally draws away, Kim resists the temptation to chase her lips; instead, they just gaze at each other again before Ramona cracks a smile. “So,” she asks, “was that a decent first kiss?”

“Uh-huh,” Kim says, and blinks. “...Was it a good first kiss for  _ you?”  _

“Couldn’t have asked for better.” Ramona leans in again, and Kim follows.


	10. competition

“I got asked out  _ again  _ last night,” Ramona says as soon as she sits down at the table. She slings her bag over the back of it, then rests one elbow on the table and places her chin in one cupped hand. “I know I shouldn’t complain about getting attention, but it really is a pain in the ass.”

“Hello to you, too.” Kim closes her menu- she’s settled on the salmon, as expensive as it is; she can afford to splurge once in a while- and sets it down. “Who was it this time?” she asks, as if she wants to know.

Ramona shrugs. “I don’t know, just some random at the bar, which makes it even worse. If it were a friend, it’d be one thing, but…” She trails off, sighing as she opens her menu. 

As much as Kim hates it, wants to ignore it, there’s a cold ball of sadness in the pit of her stomach. Someday, she’s sure, Ramona is going to get seduced by some man she actually does like and find attractive, and that’ll be the end of it. Not that there’s an  _ it  _ to speak of.

“Kim?” Ramona asks, looking up from her menu with curious eyes. “Are you okay?”

Kim blinks, then sighs and looks down at her own menu, emblazoned with the name of the pretty-good-but-not-the-best restaurant they’re at. “I’m fine,” she says simply. How’s she meant to explain that she’s in love with one of her closest friends and that she’s terrified that she’ll be shafted again, left behind as per usual? Is she supposed to just ruin the friendship right then and there, and worse, by going through the horrific ordeal of admitting her feelings? 

“Alright, good,” Ramona says. “I think I’ll just have a salad. They have decent ones here…”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I got a date.” Ramona leans back against the headboard of Kim’s bed, crossing her legs. “Sorta exciting, I guess.”

Kim, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, finds that she can’t help but frown momentarily. Not wanting Ramona to sense her displeasure, she twists her face back into a neutral expression and says, “Hey, congrats. Who’s the lucky man?” Despite her positive words, her heart’s plummeted to her large intestine. Shit times a million.

“This guy I met on the job,” Ramona says, tapping her fingers against the bedspread. “He’s alright. We’re meeting up tomorrow afternoon at… some restaurant, I can’t remember which.” She pauses. “You know, I really should’ve written it down.”

“Maybe so,” Kim says. After a few moments: “Wait, ‘alright’? Is that really grounds for a date?”

“I mean…” Ramona falls silent for a moment before continuing with, “Well, he’s more than alright. I mean, he’s sorta charming. Better than most guys that I come in contact with, anyway.”

“Right.” So Ramona’s going out with some guy she’s describing as ‘sorta charming’ rather than her. It occurs to Kim, of course, that she needs to actually tell her that she likes her in order to form any sort of romantic relationship, but… at what cost? What if she thinks she’s a creep? It’s an irrational fear, considering that she  _ knows  _ Ramona is bi, but it’s a fear all the same. 

“You’ve been zoning out so much lately,” Ramona says, bringing Kim back to reality. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m totally fine,” Kim says. “Really.”

“So, how’d the date go?”

Ramona looks up from where she’s seated at her table across from Kim, who’s fixing her with an inquisitive stare. “The date?”

“Yeah,” Kim says, “you know, the one on Tuesday?” At least, that’s when she thinks it was. She sorta tried to erase the whole thing from her memory.

Ramona’s face falls into a frown, and she glances away. “Oh, God, don’t remind me,” she says, voice muffled the slightest bit by the hand she’s cupped her chin with. “It was a disaster. The weather was shitty, and he turned out to be sort of a dick. Total waste of time.” 

Kim doesn’t want to be pleased. She would want what’s best for Ramona; she’s one of her closest friends, after all, but… is it a sin to want herself to be the one who gets to be with her? Still, she sort of is.

“It’s just… I mean, I know I don’t  _ need  _ to be in a relationship,” Ramona continues. “I know that I’m better off on my own than in one that’s not good for me. But it’s just frustrating sometimes when everything falls through.” She takes a sip of her tea- if she were the type to slurp her beverages, Kim would have to kill her, but she isn't- and adds, “I need someone like you.”

“Someone like-” Kim’s eyes widen infinitesimally, but she’s gotta keep it cool. “Uh, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ramona says. “I mean, you’re always there for me… you’re selfless. Uh, you’re nice.”

“Haven’t heard that one before.”

“I mean… when you’re drunk.” Ramona snickers. “Why am I not just dating you?”

“I don’t know,” Kim says before she even realizes she’s speaking, “maybe you should be.”

Ramona hums, staring directly at Kim with a pensive look in her eyes. “Do you  _ want  _ to date me?”

“Now that you mention it… a little.” Okay, a lot, but Ramona doesn’t need to  _ know  _ that. Maybe if she were about five shots drunker. “I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t be averse to it,” Kim says, “if you’re being serious right now and not just really evil.”

“I’m being serious,” Ramona says. “...I think, anyway. I mean, like… you’re better than all the guys around here.”

“Cool,” Kim says simply, at a loss for words. Her crush of what seems like a million years is just out here talking about dating her like it’s the most casual thing in the world; don’t get her wrong, she’s not complaining, it’s just… jarring. “Um, okay. Well. Let’s try a few dates or something.”

“Yeah, totally. Um…” Ramona thinks on it for a second. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

The corner of Kim’s mouth ticks up into a smile. “Yeah,” she says, “sounds good.”


	11. blush

The first flower that appears on the front counter at No-Account Video is blush-colored; Kim doesn’t recognize it- really, the only flowers she can recognize are lillies; roses; and columbine, which are her favorite, if only for the symbolic meaning: deceived lover. “Hollie,” she calls back toward the break room, “come look at this.”

When Hollie approaches, carrying a cup of coffee- the stuff they have there is swill, but it’s easier and cheaper than running out to a coffee shop to get something good- she stares down at the flower with inquisitive eyes. “Who’s it for?” she asks. “Do you have a secret admirer, Kim?” The edge of her lip quirks up into a joking smile. 

Kim rolls her eyes. “Ha, ha, very funny. I was helping a customer, and when I got back to the counter, it was sitting there.” She picks up the flower to inspect it: green stem, obviously, and, as she- and anyone else with eyes- had already observed, blush-pink petals radiating out from the center. “What kind of flower is this, anyway?” she asks, though she doesn’t expect Hollie to know, either.

Hollie takes the flower in three pinched fingers and studies it herself. “I think it might be a carnation,” she says. “Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Kim hums as she considers the new information. Once upon a time, her mother had taught her a little bit about gardening and plant symbolism- which is, of course, where she learned about columbine flowers- but not much of it stuck with her, so there’s really nothing to be taken in. “Well,” she says, “it’s probably for you.”

Hollie shrugs. “I’ll take it, then.” she says, and shoots her a bright smile. “This is so exciting; I’ve never had a secret admirer before.” She pauses. “...Actually, that’s a lie.”

“Oh, of course.” Before Kim can say anything more, though, the customer that she’d been helping walks up to the counter, and she’s gotta take care of that; within a few minutes, the flower is gone from the forefront of her mind.

The second flower that Kim finds on the counter is light purple in color, a clump of tiny blooms coalescing into a cone-ish shape at the end of a long stem. It’s there when she arrives for her shift a few minutes late; she gives Hollie a questioning look, but she only shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I went to the break room for, like, two seconds, and it was there when I came out.”

“Huh.” Kim stares at the flower for a few moments, taking it in. It’s not like she’s jealous of Hollie, exactly, but it’s vaguely discouraging that she’s never had a secret admirer of her own. She knows she has worth outside of a relationship, which is why she never brings it up- too many people get preachy about it at even the mention of possibly maybe desiring a modicum of romantic attention- but… it  _ would  _ be kinda nice. She wouldn’t mind it. 

“What’s wrong?” Hollie asks, tilting her head to the right. 

Kim blinks. “Um, nothing. You just seem pretty pleased with yourself.”

“I am a little bit pleased.” Hollie smiles, and her sunny disposition, as per usual, annoys Kim slightly. “I mean, it’s not every day that you get flowers delivered to you personally by a mysterious stranger.” She sighs dreamily, resting one elbow on the counter and cupping her chin with one hand. “I wonder what he’s like…”

“Don’t we all,” Kim says flatly, and stalks over to the TV near the counter to put in a movie- the first tape she can grab. “Don’t get your hopes up. All men are pigs.”

“Gee, thanks, Kim.” Hollie rolls her eyes, but a smirk appears on her face a moment later. “I bet he’s the total opposite of you. Y’know, all sunshine and rainbows.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” The TV springs to life when Kim presses the power button, and she blessedly manages to tune Hollie out.

And then the secret admirer slips up. 

Kim’s early for once- didn’t stop to grab coffee; ironically, she’s too tired- so the people working the previous shift are still there; one’s at the counter, talking to this girl with bright pink hair, something about ‘don’t tell Kim it was me’. Is that…? “Ramona?” Kim calls. “Is that you?”

Ramona turns around, eyes wide and a blush splayed across her face; with no small amount of surprise, Kim notes the flower in her hand- blue, with a blossom in sort of a star shape. “Kim,” she says, and chuckles, nerves apparent in her voice. "Uh… fancy meeting you here."

Kim can't take her eyes off the flower. The edge of her mouth curls up into a subtle, barely amused smile as she thinks about it- flowers, Flowers, et cetera, et cetera. "I didn't know you even know Hollie," she says, "much less had a crush on her."

Ramona blinks, cocking her head in confusion. "...Who's Hollie?"

It clicks, then- something she never believed would happen has actually come true. "Wait," she says. "Were those for  _ me?" _

Ramona sighs, arm drooping and falling to her side. "Uh, yeah," she says. "I would've just told you, but I dunno… this seemed more fun."

Kim takes a moment to let the situation sink in. Ramona Flowers of all people is into her- dare she say, pining after her? Again with the puns, which she's not  _ trying  _ to make, but there's an annoying amount of them that keep popping into her head. Anyway, so Ramona likes her, which she is absolutely not complaining about, because she's pretty and fun to be around and makes her feel slightly less virulent than she usually does.

"Kim?" Ramona asks, smiling in a decidedly wobbly manner. "Um, were you going to say something?"

"Oh, right." Kim sighs, collecting her thoughts and attempting to put them into words. "Uh, yeah."

"...Yeah, what?"

Embarrassed, Kim says, "I mean… yeah, I'll go out with you. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Very much so, yes.” She clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Do you want this?” she asks, gesturing toward the flower.

“What? Oh.” Kim cracks a smile- genuine this time; she’s not  _ entirely  _ a hateful bitch, despite what Hollie might say about her- and says, “Of course.” She steps forward to approach Ramona and takes the flower gently from her hand, soft against her own. “What does it mean?”

“Um, it means ‘unwavering love’,” Ramona says. “Can I tell you something embarrassing?”

“I could always use a little more blackmail.”

Ramona smiles a grin of her own. “I went to the library- you know, that huge one- and signed up for a card expressly so I could check out a book on plant symbolism.” She rolls her eyes. “How ridiculous is that?”

“That’s actually the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Kim says.

“Oh. ...That’s kinda sad.”

Kim shrugs. “I’m just glad it was you.” She catches the clerk’s gaze with her own, though, and says, “Um, I should get to work. Can we talk later?”

“Yeah,” Ramona says, sounding out of breath. “Let’s talk later.”


	12. another world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i kinda wanna write a whole longfic for this , probably a retelling of the movie specifically (not that i like it better it's just less complex) w/ a scott/kim roleswap... or perhaps a ramona/wallace one... much 2 think about...

As Kim shakes her hand out- she was expecting some broken knuckles, but it only aches mildly; it’s still enough to hurt, though- coins fall to the floor with a sharp  _ clink.  _ She stares down at them for a few seconds, then blinks before she kneels down and collects them, taking a moment to count them.

Before she can finish, though, Ramona’s voice cuts through the din of the mumbling crowd. “Sorry about that guy,” she says, and it sounds genuine. “How much did he leave?”

“Um… $2.10.” Kim sighs as she straightens back up into a standing position. “It’s not even enough for a bus ride. Some reward.” Really, for the effort she put into that fight, she at  _ least  _ deserved $5, but c’est la vie, she supposes.

“I’ll lend you the fifteen cents,” Ramona says as she walks past Kim. She pauses a few feet ahead of her and gestures with her head for her to follow. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

“Probably a good idea,” Kim says, shoving her hands- and the coins- in her pockets. “This place is a toilet, anyway.”

“So… if you were to explain what just happened,” Kim says as soon as they get seated on the bus, “that’d be pretty cool.” She’s got an arm around Ramona’s shoulder, which she’d consider too intimate if they hadn’t just almost had sex the other night.

Ramona takes a deep breath in and sighs it out, glancing out the window. “Well,” she says, voice dull, “if we’re going to date, you’re gonna have to defeat my seven exil exes.” When she turns back to Kim, there’s kind of this guilty look on her face.

“Seven evil exes,” Kim repeats. “Um, okay. ...You dated seven evil people?”

“I never said I was proud of it.” Ramona gnaws on the inside of her mouth for a moment. “Anyway, I guess that’s pretty much it.”

“It can’t be  _ just  _ that,” Kim says. “Like… are they going to come all at once?” If she’s going to do this thing- and she hopes to God it’s worth it, or she’s really going to have a stern talking-to with whoever controls her love life- she should at least get all the details. 

“Not all at once. I dunno about one at a time.” There’s something in Ramona’s tone that Kim can’t quite decipher; she shakes it off for the moment.

“Okay, well. At least there’s that.” Kim is silent for a few moments before continuing. “I guess I’m okay with it all.”

Ramona’s pensive expression turns into a gentle smile. and she leans in; following suit, Kim presses her lips to hers, a welcome proclamation of their budding love. She could get used to this, she supposes; Ramona is… well. She’s a lot of things. Kim wants to know her, really  _ know  _ her, and if this is what it takes, then she’ll make it work. 

Something occurs to her, then. “That Gideon guy… am I going to have to fight  _ him?”  _ It’s an innocuous question, at least in Kim’s opinion, but Ramona seems taken aback. There’s this weird glow that begins to emanate from her head, which takes  _ Kim  _ aback in turn. “Um… Ramona? Your head…”

“I’m fine,” Ramona says tersely.

“...Okay.” Kim pauses. “So, you really wanna go out with me?”

“Yes,” Ramona answers, a stern tone in her voice, and turns her head to look out the window again. Kim just stares.


	13. combat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loosest possible fulfillment of the prompt... idt ur reading this but thank u basil for the help!

“Hey, Kim,” Ramona asks between spoonfuls of cereal, “have you ever arm wrestled with someone?”

Kim raises her eyes from her honeyed toast to look at Ramona, then blinks. “Yes, Ramona, I’ve arm wrestled with people before.” After making sure none of the honey has gotten on her fingers, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and continues, “I mean, I think everyone has. Why, what?”

Ramona takes another bite of her cereal, glances away, and says, “I dunno. I guess I kinda wanted to try it with you. Is that weird?”

Kim is struck with the urge to ask why Ramona’s acting so sketchy, but she probably wouldn’t get a straight answer either way- she’s not the  _ least  _ secretive person, after all. “Is this some plot to get me to hold your hand?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow; the corner of her lips twitches up into a half-smile.

“What? Why would it be?” Ramona laughs, but there’s a hint of dishonesty in her voice. Bingo.

Kim doesn’t call her bluff right away, though; this could be fun. “Okay, then. Hit me.”

Ramona doesn’t reply; instead, she places her elbow on the table and reaches out a hand for Kim to take. She shoots her a smirk, which nearly has Kim swooning.

She rolls her eyes, though her smile stays, melting into an affectionate state. She mirrors her movements with her opposite hand, clasping Ramona’s in her own, but isn’t prepared for when she spreads her fingers out to thread between hers; they fit perfectly, because of  _ course  _ they do.

Ramona beams and says, “Okay, you caught me. It was absolutely a plot to get you to hold my hand.”

“You know, you could’ve just asked,” Kim says, and huffs a laugh. “I’m always open to-”

Kim’s caught off guard by Ramona nigh slamming her hand to the table with a  _ thump.  _ As Kim scoffs, Ramona laughs and says, “Or was it?”

Kim turns her gaze back to her toast, the honey having sunk into the small holes; her smile still remains. “Yeah, you sure got me,” she says. “I wonder how my dignity will ever recover. Maybe after you leave I’ll crawl in a hole and cry myself to sleep.”

“Oh, shit, I gotta  _ leave,”  _ Ramona says, eyes widening at the revelation. She lets go of Kim’s hand and stands up, not bothering to finish her cereal. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah, alright,” Kim says as Ramona presses a kiss to the crown of her head. Her hair must be getting in her mouth, but apparently, she doesn’t mind; Kim’s not complaining.

When Ramona’s gone, she looks down at her hand, the sensation of Ramona’s fingers between hers still ghosting on her skin. 


	14. love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vaguely based on a true story! [redacted] if youre reading this i'm cuter than your new boyfriend <3

The first time Ramona tells Kim she loves her, it’s a lazy day in April- for Kim, anyway. She’s not scheduled for work today, meaning she can sleep in, and she does so until about nine; by then, Ramona’s long gone, off to her swanky Amazon job, although, as Kim discovers when she heads into the kitchen for breakfast, she’s saved her some pancakes. Kim’s lips quirk up into a tiny smile as she spots the plate in the fridge; she was planning on just having some toast, but this is much better. Maybe she should stay over more often.

As she’s taking the pancakes out of the microwave, careful not to hold the plate for too long, her phone vibrates from where it lies on the counter, having been plugged in overnight. Kim sets the plate down on the counter, keeping an eye on it so Gideon doesn’t get at it, and picks up the phone.

_ > Hey! Did you see the pancakes in the fridge? _

It’s a text from Ramona- who else? At the thought of her girlfriend, Kim smiles down at the phone for a moment or two, then types out a response.

_ > I did, thanks for making them. _

_ You’re a pretty good cook, have I ever told you that? _

> _ Why, thank you! <3 _

_ I gotta get back to work; I’ll talk to you later, okay? _

_ Love you! _

Kim blinks, taking in the message before her eyes widen slightly. It’s the first time some’s said they loved her romantically in years; that, combined with the fact that they’ve only been dating for a couple months, has her in shock.

_ > Oh, my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. _

_ Like, I mean it, but I didn’t plan on saying it for a while longer. _

_ You get what I mean, right? _

Kim gnaws on the inside of her cheek. What’s she even supposed to say to that? Obviously, she loves her back, because she’s kind and pretty and funny and… well, a lot of things, but is she supposed to say it back? Is she supposed to forget about the whole thing? Is she-

_ > Kim? _

Oh, right. Well, she’s gotta make a decision soon; steeling herself, she opts to type:

_ > Well, I mean it, too. I mean, that I love you. _

Kim stares down at what she’s typed. Romance is so  _ complicated;  _ if she didn’t love (!!!) Ramona so much, she’d be totally done with it. She sighs, closing her eyes, and tries to calm down. What’s the worst that could happen? Why would Ramona break up with her over something like this?

It takes a couple minutes for Ramona to reply, which Kim spends staring at her phone, having snapped it shut after it became unbearable to look at the text conversation. She reaches out to grab it as soon as it vibrates and opens it to find, obviously, another text from Ramona.

_ > Oh, thank God. I was afraid you’d think I was weird or something. If you’re ready to say it, though, I’m ready to say it… I think. Probably. _

That has Kim smiling again. As she grabs a fork from the silverware drawer- it had occurred to her that she’d forgotten about her pancakes- she considers the idea; it  _ is  _ nice to be shown affection, if only in private, so… why not?

_ > Yeah, I’m fine with that. _

_ Don’t you have to go back to work, though? _

_ > Shit, that’s right. I’ll see you later! _

Half a minute later:

_ > I love you! _

_ > Yeah, I love you, too. _


	15. lace

When Ramona opens the closet to change after a long day at work, she’s expecting to see the usual- her clothes on the left side, Kim’s on the right, nothing more and nothing less. Instead, what she finds is a fancy pink dress; the bottom part is puffy, with a slit leg, and the top part is made up of floral-patterned lace. Objectively, it’s gorgeous, but it’s not something Kim would wear normally, and Ramona doesn’t remember buying it for herself.

She’s nearly startled out of her skin when Kim walks into the bedroom and asks, “What’re you looking at?”

Ramona turns to see her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Oh, nothing, I just noticed the dress. When did you buy that?” she asks. After a pause: “Well, today, I guess.”

Kim nods, then pushes herself away from the door and walks over to the bed, flopping down on it before replying, “Well, yeah. Did I not tell you I’m gonna be Lisa’s maid of honor? You know, Lisa Miller?” She turns her head so she’s facing Ramona again. “It’s gonna be weird. I’m gonna have to write a  _ speech.” _

“Well, I doubt there’s a better woman for the job,” Ramona says. “You’re a lyricist, aren’t you?” She crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to Kim.

“Once in a while I’ll write the lyrics, yeah,” Kim says, “but not that often. I don’t know; it’s all a little stressful.”

Ramona rests a finger on her bottom lip as she thinks on it. “Well, I still think you’ll do great,” she says after a few moments, “and either way, you’ll look killer in that dress.” She smiles and allows herself to fall back onto the sheets, her head landing near Kim’s right hip.

“I  _ guess,”  _ Kim says, looking down toward Ramona. “Everyone said it looked good on me, so you might be right.”

Ramona’s lips quirk up into a smile as she asks, “Can I see it on you?” 

“You’ll see it at the wedding,” Kim says. “You’re my plus one, remember?”

Ramona groans. “But I wanna see it  _ now,”  _ she says, doing her best imitation of a petulant child. “Kiiim.”

“Ramoooona,” Kim echoes. “Fine. Just this one time, okay? And then I’m changing into pajamas.”

With a little laugh, Ramona says, “Babe, it’s only, like, 5:30. We haven’t even had dinner yet.” She sits up and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before adding, “But, if that means you’ll do it…”

“Yes, Ramona, I’ll do it.” Kim rolls her eyes, though there’s a smile on her face. After sliding out of bed, she treads over to the closet, grabbing the dress from its hook, and says, “Were you gonna just stare, or…”

When it dawns on Ramona that she  _ was  _ staring, her cheeks redden, and she gives a nervous laugh. “What, am I not allowed? Your poor girlfriend?” she asks, but averts her gaze anyway.

“I never said I minded.”

So Ramona stares. It’s pretty hot.

When Kim’s got the dress on, she turns around and curtsies, which looks ridiculous somehow; Ramona snickers. “See, I told you it’d look good on you,” she says.

“And did I disagree with you?”

“Well, no,” Ramona admits. “But you do look  _ really  _ fantastic. Can I, like…”

“Kiss me?” Kim quirks an eyebrow, something akin to a smirk appearing on her face.

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh, just intuition. Get over here.”

And then there she is, kissing the most gorgeous woman in the world (in her opinion), which is pretty tight. Ramona couldn’t thank Lisa Miller more for getting married if this view is what she gets. “Love ya,” she says- rather, whispers- in Kim’s ear, to which the answer is another kiss.

“Love you, too.”


	16. fire

“Isn’t Canada supposed to be chilly?” Ramona asks, throwing her head back over the top of the lawn chair. “Why’s it so  _ hot  _ out? It’s nighttime, too!” To emphasize her point, she wipes the ‘sweat’ off her forehead, though Kim didn’t see any in the first place.

“Heatwave,” she says simply. “And I guess the fire isn’t making it any better.” Between them lies a mobile fire pit, which a bonfire has been brought to life in; Ramona had borrowed it from some friend or another- Kim’s forgotten who. “But I haven’t had a s’more in ages.”

“Come to think of it,” Ramona says, “neither have I.” She tilts her head back down to look at Kim and adds, “I suck so bad at making them, though. I always either burn my marshmallow or undercook it.”

“How long have you been making s’mores?”

Ramona looks away, a bashful expression on her face. “Um… I dunno. Since I was, like, seven.”

Kim can’t keep back a chuckle; she glances toward the ground, then picks her head up and says, “I can help you if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be pretty nice,” Ramona says. “Where’d the marshmallows go...?”

Kim leans down in her chair and picks up the bag of Jet-Puffed marshmallows, which were right next to her sandaled feet. “They’re right here. Will you toss me one of the skewers?” Upon realizing her folly, she quickly corrects herself: “Actually, just bring it over.”

Ramona grabs one of the two skewers that are leaning against her chair- prongs toward the sky, of course- and mimics throwing it at Kim; when Kim flinches, she laughs and says, “I’m just givin’ you shit.” She stands up and strides over to Kim’s chair, and Kim grabs the skewer with a nod in lieu of a ‘thank you’. 

Careful not to have marshmallows fly everywhere, Kim pulls open the bag of marshmallows, then picks one at random and sticks it on the skewer. “Do you like them well done or lightly toasted?” she asks, raising her gaze to meet Ramona’s. 

Ramona shrugs. “I dunno. In the middle? A little brown, but not  _ too  _ much.”

“As you wish,” Kim says, and stretches her arm just a bit to let the marshmallow roast over the open flame, resting her elbow on her knee. “You’re lucky you have such a wonderful and chivalrous girlfriend to do this for you.”

“I absolutely am,” Ramona says, grinning. “You’re the best, if only for the marshmallow cooking.”

“I think you’ve called me the best for about a million other things.”

Ramona huffs a laugh and admits, “Yeah, that’s true. I think I know the reason I do that, though.”

Kim raises her eyebrows in mock-curiosity; she knows what’s coming next. “Oh?”

“It’s because you  _ are  _ the best.” 

“You’re damn right, I’m the best,” Kim says, and glances down at the marshmallow. “I guess you’re pretty cool, too.”


	17. shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, midway through this: how the Fuck was i gonna make this fit  
> me: finishes it the same way anyway

It’s a tossing-and-turning sort of night for Ramona. She loves Kim, she really does, and that’s why she wants to keep her flaws to herself, but something’s been eating her up inside; how can she live like this any longer, with Kim not in the know? She stares up into the darkness, first to her right, then on her back, up toward the ceiling.

“Ramona?” Kim asks from Ramona’s left side. “Why are you still up?”

“Why are  _ you  _ still up?” Ramona asks in turn, deflecting.

“Because you keep moving around. It woke me up.” Kim sighs and sits up; Ramona turns over to see her staring down at her. “Is something wrong? Or do you just need sleep meds? I think I have some Melatonin in the bathroom.”

“It’s not that,” Ramona says. “It’s… I don’t know. I’m just thinking.”

Kim flops back down on the bed; it’s- Ramona checks the alarm clock- nearly three in the morning; she must be exhausted. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but… thinking about what?” Her voice is hushed and groggy; it would be cute if Ramona didn’t know it was her fault for rousing her.

“I…” Ramona closes her eyes tight, takes a deep breath in. She has to tell Kim about the Katayanagi debacle sooner or later; otherwise, she’ll be sick with guilt. “I guess it’s just that… I’ve done some bad things.”

“We’ve all done bad things,” Kim says after a few moments. “I murdered a guy once.”

“...You did?”

“No, but I shoulda.”

Ramona breaks into a smile despite herself. She needs to relish every moment of Kim’s wit left, just in case she leaves once she says what she needs to say. “Okay, well. I mean. Do you promise not to freak out if I tell you?”

“I’ll try not to,” Kim says, again taking a couple seconds to respond. “Shoot.”

“I…” Ramona sighs deeply, expelling what must be a hundred percent of the air in her lungs. Getting the words out is like pulling teeth, but she does it anyway: “Um, I’ve cheated.”

It takes Kim even longer to respond this time; when she does, it’s nearly inaudible. “...On me?”

“No! No, no, God, no,” Ramona says; if she were sitting up, she would shake her hands desperately, but she’s not, so she doesn’t. “Just… I dated these twins after college.”

“Uh-huh.” Kim’s affect is flat- not a good sign.

“...At the same time.”

“Uh-huh,” Kim repeats. “...Okay.”

“And… I don’t want you to think I’d do the same to you,” she says, “because I never would. I mean, I’ve loved you more than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

“I love you, too,” Kim says, and thank God for that.

Silence.

“Um… okay. So.” Ramona falls quiet for a moment. “Where are we, then?”

Kim sighs deeply; Ramona can just picture her pinching the bridge of her nose. “I mean… it’s not great that you did that. But…”

“...’But’?”

_ “But,”  _ Kim continues, “I’m willing to overlook it. I mean, I don’t want to give up on this just because you fucked up in the past.”

A wave of relief hits Ramona like a tsunami, and she lets her eyes fall shut, sighing. “Okay,” she says, “thank you so much, for real.”

It certainly comes as a shock that when Kim turns to wrap an arm around her, as if she’s shielding her from all the guilt she holds, the knowledge that she’s done something wrong, inflicted an irreparable scar on not one but two people. If she’s got Kim by her side, maybe she can forgive herself, and- far more importantly- she gives her the motivation to be a better person like no one else has.

“Thanks for telling me,” she says simply. “Now, will you go to sleep? I have work in the morning.”


	18. at work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was worried bc i was posting this at 7pm which isnt a good posting time but then i remembered that nobody reads this so

The woman that enters No-Account Video on a gloomy day in October catches Kim’s eye right away. Granted, there’s nothing else to catch it- this place is boring to work at, but what isn’t?- but she would probably catch her eye in any other setting, too, if only for her hair. It’s a cute haircut, first of all, but it’s also dyed a bright pink, which is a good look on her.

Kim glances back down at her magazine- she’d picked it up at random at the grocery store last time she went to save it for the next time it got  _ really  _ boring at work; it’s a garbage tabloid, but it keeps her occupied. Still, the girl’s presence is haunting, distracting her; she can’t even see her, but she knows she’s there, being intriguing. Kim turns back to her tabloid.

“Hey, excuse me,” says a voice from above, and Kim raises her gaze to see the pink-haired girl standing in front of the clerk’s desk, a slight smile on her face.

“...Yes?” Kim says, trying to keep her voice level. She closes the magazine and sets it down, making eye contact the entire time.

“I was just wondering if you could help me pick out a video.” The girl leans against the counter, crossing her arms on the dark wood. “I’m having trouble finding anything good.”

Kim stifles the urge to tell her that it’s not exactly in her job description to help picky customers- Hollie can cover for her anyway, and she’s not going to complain about spending time with someone she thinks is cute. “Yeah, alright,” she says. “Do you want me to…” She gestures with her head toward the shelves that house copious amounts of videos.

“Come with? Yeah, that’d be nice,” the girl says. She waits for Kim to step out from behind the desk, then leads her to where she’s apparently been poking around, which is- Kim sighs- the romantic comedies section.

“Rom-coms, eh?” she asks flatly.

“Yeah,” the girl says, “but I can’t find one I want to watch. Do you have any ideas?”

Kim bites back a groan. She can’t just say that she loathes rom-coms- not to sound edgy, but they’re too unrealistic for her, and not even in the fun “radiation doesn’t make things into monsters, but it would be cool if it did” way. “Um, not really,” she says. “I don’t usually watch rom-coms.”

“Oh, God, neither do I. It’s just, my friend is having this ‘shitty movie’ party-” she makes air quotes with her pointer and middle fingers- “and I figured I may as well bring a rom-com. Everyone else is gonna be bringing horror, I’m sure, so… variety?”

While she doesn’t really show it, the statement definitely amuses Kim. “Variety indeed,” she says, and the corner of her mouth twitches up into a smirk for a moment. “I think I remember this one bombing in the theaters…” She brushes past the girl, walking a few feet closer to the back of the store- there’s a shit-ton of rom-coms- and crouches down to grab a copy of  _ Serving Sara.  _ “I never went to see it, but it might be good enough for a shitty movie party.”

When Kim hands the case over to her, the girl takes it, smiles, and says, “Thank you  _ so  _ much, uh... ” Her gaze flits down toward the pin on Kim’s shirt. “Kim.”

“No problem. Hope it’s terrible,” Kim says, and, despite herself, finds herself with a hint of a smile on her face.


	19. perform

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chaboy took some antibiotics yesterday and got violently ill instead of publishing a ficlet. sorry to the three people who keep up with these things  
> also rereading this i realized i accidentally quoted dear evan hansen in here... the sins of our past can never be shaken. harrowing

The raised wood of the doorframe presses into Ramona’s side, a blunt, mildly painful force that she’s chosen to ignore. She’s silent as she looks in on another haphazard Shatterband rehearsal, which, while endearing, doesn't contain the highest quality music; still, it's her girlfriend and one of their closest friends, so she'll do all she can to support them, if only by being present in the room.

Kim finishes up the song with a decisive tap to her largest drum, then wipes the sweat from her forehead- drumming is a workout, apparently- and asks, "Should we do it one more time?"

"Actually," Scott says, "I've gotta go. Wallace is having people over, and he's making me clean the bathroom because he's lazy and a jerk and doesn't care that I have better things to do."

"That's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard," Kim deadpans, fixing him with a flat stare.

Scott blinks, then, after staring back at Kim for a few moments, lifts the guitar from his shoulders; he apparently catches sight of Ramona as he begins to put it back in its case, though, because he stops and smiles with a little wave. "Hey, Rammy."

"Hey, Scott," Ramona says, straightening up and putting her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

"I can't stay and talk," Scott says, "I gotta... yeah. But I'll see you later, alright? Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

After Scott's got his guitar packed up and has exited the building, whistling as he goes, Kim turns to Ramona. "So?" she asks. "How were we?"

"Um..." Ramona ponders the question- more specifically, how to phrase her answer in a way that isn't mean. "I mean, it's not really... my thing?" After giving the room a quick scan, her eyes fall on her favorite tabby cat, and she adds, "I think Gideon liked it, though."

"Uh-huh," Kim says, "I'm sure he did. Also, you could stand to be a little more supportive of your girlfriend's musical endeavors." There's no accusatory tone in her voice, though; Ramona's well aware that she's just giving her shit as per usual.

"I do support you!" she says. "I mean, you're a great drummer. It's more what you choose to play..."

"Digging your own grave, here."

"Right. Do you want me to make dinner or something? You look like you've been working hard." Ramona takes a mental inventory of the kitchen: there's fusilli in the cabinet, and, if worst comes to worst, she could always heat up some of the beef ramen she'd picked up in case she was feeling too lazy to make a meal.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," Kim says as she stands up from her throne. "Sorta got some swass going on."

Ramona, bewildered, asks, "...Do I wanna know what that is?" 

"Um, no. Can I have some meat or something? I think that's what you're supposed to eat after doing cardio."

"I can make some spag bol," Ramona says. "That might be good. Well, technically it's fus bol, 'cuz I was feeling fancy..."

"That would be fantastic, actually," Kim says, and stretches her arms with a small grunt. "...Wait, what the hell is 'fus bol'? Like, foosball?"

"What? No. Like..." Ramona pauses. "I guess you'll just have to find out."

(Pretending to be) defeated, Kim sighs and says, "Whatever you say."


	20. ribbon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote this the same day as i published it because i was too busy writing other, more self-indulgent shit the past few days to write for femfeb rifp

"You know, you really didn't have to get me anything," Ramona says as Kim hands her the box, which is covered in wrapping paper that features cats with Santa hats on them- leftovers from the holiday season. "Christmas was only, like, a week ago."

Kim shrugs. "Well, I did. I can always take it back if you want, pawn it or something..."

Ramona snickers and rolls her eyes before saying, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining."

"Well, you'd better not complain," Kim says, "'cuz it took forever. Are you gonna open it?"

Took forever... so it must be something handmade. Ramona's smile stays firmly on her face as she pulls the ribbon around the box loose, discarding it on the floor for the time being, and, when she takes the lid off the box, it blooms into a grin. "Kim, this is awesome! How'd you even think of it?"

Inside the box lies a black pullover hoodie that would be vaguely nondescript if it weren't for the patches sewn diligently onto it. Ramona takes it out of the box with careful hands, and, letting the box fall to the floor from her knees (for now), unfolds it to take a closer look. On the back is a large patch featuring what the Lovers tarot card- she's pretty sure it's a tarot card, anyway; isn't that one of them?- and, on the front pocket, Kim's sewn a Replacements patch. Ironed onto the right breast is a bi pride flag patch, and there's other things, too, probably, but Ramona wouldn't know, because she's currently letting the hoodie fall to her lap and leaning over toward Kim, placing a hand on her cheek and bringing their lips together. It's a deep kiss, a loving one, and Kim smiles back into it.

"You're welcome, for the record," she says. "And to answer your question, this one roommate I had one time was this punk rocker girl who had a vest that was all sewn up and shit, and I figured you might like something like that, too. You would have loved her; she dyed her hair almost as much as you do."

"Wow. Can I get her number?"

"Only if you let me watch when you make out."

The two of them burst into laughter, and wow, Ramona knew she was in love before, but the combination of a) such a heartfelt gift and b) Kim's voice as she wishes her a happy birthday has her heart doing tricks in her chest. "Hey, Kim?" she says as she folds the hoodie back up- she'll put it on later.

Kim slings an arm around Ramona's shoulders, pulling her close. "Uh-huh?"

"I love you. Like, a stupid amount," Ramona says. "And I'm gonna wear the shit outta this hoodie."

"Good, because I can't really return it."

"Kim!"

"Oh. I love you, too."


	21. lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> totally lost steam for this so from here on out they'll just be short little things. what ever

“Why are you still here? Weren't you supposed to open?”

Ramona’s voice is groggy, but there's a smile in it, which is exactly what Kim needs to hear in the morning. To be fair, it's not like she was meant to wake up early today, but whatever, it's still good to hear. "I traded it with Hollie for her shift tomorrow," she says. "I figured I could have a lazy day with you or whatever."

"Aw, babe!" Ramona huffs a sleepy breath of laughter and adjusts her position so she can look Kim in the eyes- she'd been resting with her head on her chest, but now, she rolls off of her and uses her own pillow for once. "That's sweet of you."

"I do my best," Kim says, and sits up, making a mental note to fix her bedhead later. "You're making breakfast, though."

Ramona covers her face with both hands and groans, rolling over to face the bathroom with her back to Kim. "You are so mean to me."

"Kidding, it's a joke," Kim says. "We'll collaborate."

"That sounds better." Ramona's silent for a while, and Kim's growing more and more sure certain she's fallen back asleep, but it seems she's still awake, because she eventually pipes up with, "Can we stay here for another hour or something?"

"You're that tired?"

"No," Ramona says, "just feeling lazy. You did say that it was a lazy day, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah, I may have," Kim says. "But you don't have to take it so literally. I'm starving." 

"Deal with it," Ramona says- though not in a malicious manner- and turns to wrap an arm around Kim's waist, scooting closer. "It's just... I dunno, pancakes or whatever. It can wait. Don't you wanna hold your wonderful and lovely girlfriend?"

Kim groans, though she's certainly not opposed to the idea. "Yeah, fine," she says, faux-begrudgingly, and opens her arms.


	22. glass

"Why the long face?"

Kim looks up from the half-empty glass of her tequila sunrise she's got grasped in one hand to see the bartender- a girl who looks to be around her age with bright teal hair; the pin on her chest reads 'Ramona'- looking down at her, looking genuinely curious. "Are you contractually obligated to ask that?" she asks.

"Uh, no," Ramona says, "you just look mildly depressed. Or do you just have resting bitch face...?"

"I guess that's just my dirty little secret." Kim takes a sip of what remains of her drink and adds, "Although... if only because I'm mildly drunk, I'm gonna answer your question."

Ramona waits for a few moments, continuing to clean the glass she's been holding- Kim hadn't noticed it at first- before she presses further with a "...Yeah?"

"Oh." Kim pauses, considers her options. She already said she would, but does she really want to tell a stranger about her stupid boy problems? Bartenders are paid to make conversation, true, but it's a whole mortifying ordeal or whatever. Deciding to be gutsy, she says, "So, my boyfriend cheated on me."

Ramona narrows her eyes, and her hand halts midway through cleaning the inside of the glass. "That dick!"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Kim says, and props her head up with an elbow on the bar.

"Well," Ramona says, "it looks like you'll pick up another guy in no time."

Kim raises her eyebrows. "Why d'you say that?" While she knows she has value on her own, it is a comforting thought; she definitely wouldn't mind having a partner. 

"You're cute, for one," Ramona says, and Kim blinks, somewhat taken aback. She doesn't really get that often. "And I can tell your personality's unique. So chin up, okay?"

"'Chin up', eh?" Kim echoes softly to herself. "Thanks, I guess. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me lately."

"Huh. Well, I'm happy to provide," Ramona says, and flashes a smile, and it occurs to Kim that this is just what she needed.


	23. ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the ex i mentioned a few chapters back got back in touch with me so i take back what i said

Ramona wouldn’t say she loves Canada- she's never felt overwhelmingly attached to anywhere she's lived, which is why it was so easy to both go to and leave New York. It's a pretty good place to live, though, so she's tolerated the ice up until now. 

"I hope you're not taking this for granted," Kim says as she dabs the angry red scrape on Ramona's knee with soap. (Ramona's not entirely sure that's how you're supposed to clean wounds, but whatever, she trusts Kim.) "This stuff is gross. Why were you wearing anything short enough to let you scrape your knee, anyway?"

"I thought it would be warmer! Sue me," Ramona huffs, crossing her arms. She winces as the soap stings the sensitive skin and adds, "It's not like we have a TV to watch the weather channel."

Kim is silent for a few moments; Ramona's pretty sure she's won this one. "Fine," she says, "but next time, I might not be there to help you out."

"I'm pretty sure I can fend for myself, given that I'm a whole twenty-five years old," Ramona says, but there's a smile on her face- she's not offended. It's actually kind of nice, being tended to by Kim, although she obviously could've done it herself- if it were anyone else, she would've protested. Feigning begrudgement, she says, "Thanks, Kim."

"Uh-huh. But don't expect me to kiss it."

Ramona's face skews into a grimace. "Ew, yeah, I'll pass." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!  
> For the first time in literal years, I forgot to add this message to the end initially. Who *am* I?


End file.
